Great Masters of Himalayas

GREAT MASTERS OF THE HIMALAYAS THEIR L I V E S AND TEMPLE T EACHING VOLUME ONE Third Edition BY

RISHI SINGH GHERWAL AUTHOB O r

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Kundalini

- Mother

Of The Universe

Yoga Vashisht or Heaven Found and others Copyrighted and Published By Author

1927

BOOKS OR CORRESPONDENCE COURSES WRITE TO

Rishi Singh Gherwal or J. Falkenstein I P. 0. Box 533 Santa Barbara, Calif. I

u. a A.

The d a r t on the ewer nine triangles, two lot~seu,Bhonld be eight and six& petal6 and three circles.

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CHAPTER 11-1 AGAIN MEET THE MASTER. Page

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GHAPTER I-MY

VISION.

CHAPTER 111-HARD WAR.

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CHAPTER IV-IN THE JUNGLE W E MET MONKEYS; WITNESSED THEIR TRIAL. Page 18 CHAPTER V-THE

CAVE OF NASIK.

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CHAPTER VI-THE

CAVE OF BAGH.

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CHAPTER VII-HASTINAPUR.

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CHAPTER VIII-BADRINATH.

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CHAPTER IX-KANDARNATH.

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CHAPTER X-MANSFLAWAR. LAKE.

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CHAPTER XI-MUKTINATH.

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CHAPTER XII-LHATSE.

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CHAPTER XIII-THE TEMPLE TAT SANGA.

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PREFACE The pages of this hook have been lived personally by its author. It is absolute fact, even though the Western world may think it incredible fact. The alert observer of human life recognizes there exists more than comes under his personal recognizance-more than "Is dreamt of in thy philosophy, Horatio."

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What to the uninformed Western mind, or shall we say the unheeding Western mind seem miraculous unbelievable episodes, is to the philosophical mind of the Hindu the natural cl~lmination of development along spiritual lines. , The European and Western world looks expectantly and continually into the "outer" for knowledgethe East is introspective, knowing that the spirit of man is not put on like a garment but is innate. The flesh is the garment for the spirit.

The West has been dubbed material, the East spiritual, but it is not so i n the truest sense. for "Man lives not by bread alone" hut is sustained by the impelling, compelling spirit. Whether in the Himalayan snows or the busy modern street the flesh is lit by the lamp within-the West has burnished the vessel of the lamp, the East has fanned the flame. The message of Yoga philosophy is: "Go within to find thy God. He waits for you in the temple of your o m soul. The reality is within, and Maya (illusion) is witbout."

Author's picture, taken just about the time he made the trip to the Holy Places

GREAT MASTERS O F THE HIMALAYAS

CHAPTER I During the troublous years of 1922 and 1923 the Beloved of the Indian peoples, Mahatma Gandhi was imprisoned, but though prison walls separated him from his adoring friends, his doctrine the conviction for which he suffered imprisonment,-the policy of non-resistance-was ardently essayed by his supporters. In particular, the Akalis consecrated themselves by vows spoken at the Gurdwara (temple) to endure torture and death rather than r e t u r ~ lviolelice for violence, confident that right by virtue of the power of truth would prevail without might. Sympathetic with the Akalis' principle of nonresistance, I could not look with equanimity upon their torture. My friends urged nle to leave the country since my home was open for the political leaders, and I who had vowed my life to the pursuit of philosophic knowledge and peace was fast letting nly sympathies obtain the upper hand. Finally I yielded to the earnest irkiportunities of' saner adv~cethan my own heart offered and went in search of the liecessary permit to leave Il~diafor England. The official in charge agreed to furnish a permit but stated that the pernut could not irrlmed~atelybe obtained. I wandered out in the country while awaiting tlie issue of the permit. Coniilig upon a shady tree I lay beneath it and soon fell asleep.

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As I slept a vision of myself at Brindavan unfolded. Brindavan-where bhe greatest of mankind, Sri Krishna spent his childhood. Turning over in my sleep woke me and as I sat up, one whose aspect was that of a Master addressed me. His kindly glance rested upon me and looking into his beautifuI eyes I lost myself in them, to be recalled by his voice: "Son, what troubles you?" I could not answer. "Would you like to go Brindavan?" "Indeed, yes," I found my voice, "but tell me, wh?~ are you?" "1 am thyself!" The realization then that he knew, mysteriously, of mv vision astonished me. "How did you know I wish to sep Brindavan?" He said with a smile, "I guessed so. I know you will go to Rrindavan and there I will meet you." As he spoke he moved away from me. Anxiety that I shoiild not see pain this man whose tender gaze awakened m y own divinity prompted me t to beg him to sav when we should m ~ e again. "Son," his voice reached me from dnwn the road, "at Rrindavan I will surely meet thee." After his departure I sat and wondered anew at this accurate reading of my thonghts. When I returned home I told my mother and brother that within a week I was going to England, hut to a friend I confided rny heart was set upon going to Tibet.

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CHAPTER Il

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I planned to leave home without any of my family knowing I was bent upon going to Brindavan and not to England. My chief reason for secrecy was the concern that my younger brother would certainly Sollow me if he knew my intention of journeying to the Holy Place. To my mother I said, "I will go tonight. 1)o not tell our friends for I do not want a crowd to see me off." In spite of this the station that night was crowded with many young friends, and with me I carried the felicitations of my comrades. Their wishes che~ered me even though they were mistaken in my destination. After an all night ride I reached Brindavan, the Holy Place, where gather every twelve years the great and holy men of India-Sadhu*, Yogi and Swami. From every corner of India they come to pay respect at the birthplace of the Beloved Krishna. Brindavan is about five miles west of the city of Mathura, situated upon a hill covered by woods, in which grow a great variety of trees and shrubs. Here sing the Kokilos (cencubus indicus) sweetest of all bird singers, the charm of whose song remains with the listener as long as memory. Here, too, the Chakur Banbehiya trills, but to my mind, the Kokilos are the *6adhu-an itinerant holy man who in his journeys is sheltered and Bupvlied with food by the reeprctful vovulare. He has renounced the world and its delights and comforts.

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loveliest singers in the world. The birds have made Brindavan a heaven. It is a natural beauty spot from the mouth to the source of the Jamuna River. I could not but remember that it was only fitting the sweetest song-birds should have sung their beautiful songs for the greatest king of mankind (to the Indian mind), Sri Krishna. In this garden spot Krishna played RS a child, and here, grown to manhood, the Flute Player sang his song of the divine of which the Bhagavad Gita is but a fragment. Here lived Him whose teachings gave food to the advanced thinkers of humanity. "Stand up, Pertpal." said Krishna to Arjuna, "fight for your nharma."' Standing upon the beautiful hill called Govardhana and looking upon the lovely Jamuna River, I almost forgot for what I had come to Brindavan Twilight was sh~do\\rvabout me when from behind me a voice said, "HO\T' do you like Brindavan? Is it the samc as you saw it a week ago?" "Yo11 are mistaken. I fear. I was not here a week ago." and I turned to face thc questioner. "Think, son, did yon not see Govardhana Hill a u~eelisince?" "Ah, yes, I saw it in a vision as I lay under a tree outside the City of 1,udhiana. and now I wonder if you aren't the same man I saw there?" *Dhama-Right

nnd D u t y .

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Smiling he answered me, "Yes. Let us go to the Temple, you are probably hungry." At the Temple a servitor gave us a wholesome meal which I enjoyed in the company of my new friend. After eating I sought the Temple courtyard and there I slept on the ground-sleeping very well. The next morning the porter told me that the Rishi left a message telling me to meet him in Hardwar. "What is the name of the Rishi?" I asked. "We call him the All-Knowing, other than that I know not his name." Was this Rishi, perhaps, the Great Master of whom I had heard since childhood, whom I had desired to meet? I resolved in Hardwar to ask him frankly for his name.

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HARDWAR Just outside the city of Hardwar I noticed a man sitting beneath a tree, but I gave little heed to him and passed on. He overtook me, however, and asked me how I made it from Brindavan. "On my two fleet. And how did you, Babaji?" "Likewise, my son," he retorted. My eagerness to learn his identlty forced me to ask at once for his name. "Let us first find a place to eat, son, and then wo will discuss that." So we walked on until under his direction we carno to a well-known Muni-mandal, Vidayal. There we were greeted by Saint Kishavanadji a great Sadhu of the Udasi of the Punjab. Saint Kishavanadji treated us courteously and after we dined my Kishi drew apart and spoke with the Saint at such length that I fell asleep. When I awoke I was alone and again I searched for my erstwhile companion. About h ~ n Il knew nothing and that didn't make the search any simpler. Hour after hour I sought him and finally I returned to the Muni-mandal Vidayal. To Saint Kishavanadji I told my loss and he soberly told me that I could not easily find that great Babaji.

GREAT hfA8TEBS OF THE HIMALAYA8

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"Can you tell me, oh Saint, who the Babaji is?" "The greatest of all Rishis, my son. Some call him Yogi, some Swami, and others Sanyasi. No one on earth has reached his exalted state." "Is it he," I queried, "who lives on the highest peaks of Mount Abu in Rajputana and is known as the greatest Yogi-Bhagavan Puriji?" "From whom have you heard these things? son?" "My uncle, Sadhu Utama Singhji." "You are then a nephew of Utama Singhji; where is he now, son?" i answered that he had gone to the other world rome ten years before. For nearly a week I remained at the Muni-mandal. While there I was surprised to learn that Saint Kish~vanadjiwas ninety years old. Such was his extraordinary v@or that six men col~ldnot move him once he had taken his stand. Talking later with the men 1 chided them on their inability to lift a lone man, aged at that. They replied that when the Saint was sixty years of age double their number could not budge him an inch. From Saint Kishavanadji I besought the information as to how I might reach the great Master Dhagavan Puriji. After making certain that my desire to seek the Master was sincere he told me I must journey to the Mount Abupeaks. "He is there now," he affirmed.

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"But how can I go to the Mount through jungleland where every kind of wild animal would prey upon me? The tigers of h j p u t a n a , ferocious beasts, would make a meal from my poor body." Smilingly the Saint retorted that I did not really want to see the Master. "If you sincerely desired to go to the Master you would ignore your body. Why care if your body be eaten by a tiger? You are a soul without birth or death. 'Jo hai jo hai'-what wlll be will be." Hereupon tlie Saint took the occasioll to lecture me. He was a learned man, well linown and respected all over the Punjab. In Hardwar he made his headquarters at the Muni-mandal Vidayal, scarcely a mile from the railroad station. "Ah, son, start thy journey to the Great One. It is well worth the pains of dangeizous trhavel." Promising me a map w t h full directions for the trip to Mount Abu should I decide to go, ht: left me and I wandered about for tliree days trylng lo nleke up my mind. On the fourth day a man came to the Muni-mandal, a huge fellow six feet tall with the strength and appearance of a butchel., ready, as I thought to kill any poor goat who went near hiril. IIe announcetl his intention of making a journey to Mount 4bu, declaring that it was not his first trip there. Many misgivings assailed me at the thought of being the companion of such a one, but there \vas no

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one else foolhardy enough to go and, despite the war~lingof my spirit that the butcher-like man was only one degree better than the Rajputana tigers I agreeld to accompany him.

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CHAPTER IV

IN THE JUNGLE WE MET MONHEYS WITNESSED THEIR TRIAL To gratify my absorbing desire to sit at the feet of the Great Master Bhagavan Puriji meant risking my life in the jungle, but from childhood I had resolved that I should learn from the Holy One who was intimately known to Sadhus and Yogis. "\\.ith my money w e need not walk. At least as f a r as the trains can take us on our way," I told my burly companion. To whlch he retorted that whether I had money or not was indifferent to hiill. Ride we would, but pay we would not. Tickets were for knownothings. We boarded the train and were not approached for a ticket. Nearing our destination whlle the train was bumping along at twenty miles an hour my comrade suggested we get off-otherwise we must walk back this far from the station. The idea of jumping from a train speeding along at twenty miles an haul. didn't appeal to me but my friend grasped my arm and together we leaped. Fortunately we landed in sand and except for sand in my eyes, nose and throat, I was unhurt. "That's not sugar," he protested, "so don't eat it." I had long since made up my mind to keep my mouth shut, thinking that the best policy.

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He looked about until he found a trail and called

to me to "come on if I cared to". I got to my feet still clutching my little hag of pulse which was sufficient to provide me with food for thirty days. Following as a child does its mother I kept tip with him easily as I am a good walker. Fifty miles and hour is withmiles a day at the rate of for~r* in my ability. Ahout seven in the evening he stopped and I thought we were to rest there for the night, but no, after twenty minutes he resumed the march and continlieti until nine o'clock, Then we made camp for the night. Not a sound broke the still air and a beautiful moon made day of the night and permitted me the consolation of reading my Rhagavad Gita. Early morning fonnd 11s again on the trail. So we plodded on for four days and on the fifth I noticed spoor of wild animals. To my companion I said nothing. Hr treated me heartlessly. In the five days not fifteen words had passed between us. The evening of the sixth day he sat down near a little s t r r n ~ nthat grishcrl from the mnuntnin-side. W e snt there for half an hour when 1 saw with consternation twrnty h ~ ~ monkeys ge coming straight toward us. "T,ool

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brought calm and peace wherever he went. Never before nor since have I met anyone like the Masut Bhahora wh? continually expressed divine joy. He was a child without fear, even of death, and absolutely untiring! When he arrived in Mahaprasthan he had walked more than a night and a day, yet he was gaily ready to go right on. The Master, however, insisted on Sonny's resting for two hours. At noon we were on our way, Laughing Sonny the fourth member of our party. He sang blithely all the time, the sweetness and beauty of his singing I have no words to express. About a mile out Yogi Santi asked Sonny why he did not remain in the city. "Ah, Master," the boy lovingly answered, "I could not s k y i w a y when I heard you were going to make a trip around the Himalayas. The very ,day I heard the report I started and every day I walked sixteen hours endeavoring to overtake you. So here I am, Master dear, to see the beautiful places I have often told you I longed to see." Perhaps a little history of Laughing Sonny would be welcomed by my readers. When Sonny was a boy of ten years he 'first saw Yogi Santi sitting beneath a tree in Sonny's home village, in winter time-sitting there with no clothing to protect him from the cold. His mind was instantly made up to learn the secret of doing likewise. Every day he went to the Yogi's lodging. But one day a month later he went only to find the Yogi gone, for it was 'during the period of Yogi Santokh's wanderings throughout the length

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and breadth of Hindustan. His beloved Yogi gone and no one could tell him where! 1)ishearstenedhe returned'holme, to fall ill. , . His malady didn't yield to the tender care of his mother and father nor even to the Hakim'. His mother grieved and worried declared she would do anything to restore her boy to health and uappiness. "Will you do anything, Mother?" the boy eagerly askea. Yes, Son, anything to help you." "But, Mother, 1 am afraid you will not let me do the one thing in this world to make me happy,' an& the boy sank back dejectedly. "

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"Yes, Son, I will. I promise you," she replied tenderly. "'l'hen, Mother, do you remember the Y'ogi who was here last month?" "Yes, I know who you mean. Many times I told you that you loved him better than your mother." "Oh, you know it is true, Mother. I love him more than anyone in the world-that's why I'm ill. Please, please," he begged piteously. "Let me go after him; then I will be happy and well when I see him again." The distracted woman said nothing more but awaited her husband. To him she told the story. They hoped and felt time would heal the boy's infatuation

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for the Yogi, but month after month slipped away without a change foi* the better in the boy's condilion. The neighborhood on learning the cause of the lad's contiilual l a s ~ i l u d c ailvisetl , the p a r r ~ i t sto lalie the boy to the Yogi. From city to city the liltlc family journeyetl but not until f i f l e ~ ndays later tlitl they find the Yopi, n-110 \\-as i~lilocrntly i~esponsible for their boy's unhappiness. When Laughing Sonny saw Yogi Santi whom h e loved so well, he brightened and glowed with joy. A few days wrought such a n improvement in the boy that the parents toolc him homc. Absence from his heart's tlrsire sickened the little lad and again he lapsed into lassitude. Months, weary months for the boy passed but his sick abstraction continued until the parents were so alarmed they were forced to again seek the Yogi, whom they jndl~ced to return for a short timr to thc village. He could not remain there forever, he who had forsalien his d ~ a r e s t ,ant1 tv1)c.n agiliir ~ I Pleft, Laughing Sonny stole away and followed. When h e o v e ~ ~ t o ohis k adored Master, Yogi Santi hoped to disll To this the courage his tlcvotion 11y ~ ~ o u ptrcntrncnt. boy submitted with a laugh, so that finally the Yogi and the boy were united in a loving understanding. Yogi Santolih fondly named him "Laughing Sonny." The four of us trudged on to the lad's singing, one man ant1 ruyself warmly clothr'd--1~nt Yogi Santi anti his adoring disciplr 1lnd very littlr to 11:~otectthem

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merely a kaboli, a thin blanltetlike robe loosely wrapped about them. I wondered it6 Sonny's laughter and joyous song-how he kept so cheerful, a s cheerful as if he was in the warm temple, for this was not the temple, but bitter oodcl, 18,000 feet up on the Mount Nanda Devi! The peak was glorious and the rare, frosty air vitalizing if biting. We all felt exquisite vibrations as we sang the song of Nanda Devi. Nanda Devi was a learned lady who called this mountain home. The Rishis named the peak in her honor. No other or higher spires were visible from where we stood and we had the sensation of standing atop the universe. We walked on snow and I noted with a pang that Sonny's poor canvas shoes whose inadequacy I noticed at Mahaprasthan were now gone! Not a thing on his feet. I couI,d1ttake my thoughts from his poor bare feet. Unable to endure it any longer I asked him if he was not suffering. Laughingly he answered he wasn't used to wearing shoes in the country, and the soles of his feet had become leathery, until, said he, "They were like an animal's pa,dded paws. Now forget my feet, Brother, I'm not cold, and let us enjmoy the lovely mountain." In a few hours we caught up with Yogi Santi w h o had outdistanced us. When he saw the bare feet of Sonny he sat down and removed his lo'wn shoes and gave them to Sonny, who promptly refused them, saying he would die of cold before taking his Master's

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boots. "Please, Master," he begged, "keep your shoes on your feet, oh pleasel" Yogi Santi walked on. The Yogi really did not neetd the boots as he was above heat and cold. He had proved it amply in his long sojourn of twelve years in the wood. Sonny tied the boots about his neck-he would not put his Master's shoes upon his feet. That day we crossed the mountains and entered the Trans-Himalaya Pass, heading toward the beautiful Lake Mansrawar and I am still wondering who had made the numerous caves along our path-every night we had no t ~ o u b l e in finding shelter in a cave. Yogi Santi always knew the exact location of a convenient cave. At night we cosily reclined in the cave - while ..Yogi Santi sat in Samadhi. When he awakened from Samadhi he tossed Sonny a n e w pair of shlo~es!I was completely dumb-founded. Where had he obtained them I asked myself there wasn't a village - there simply wasn't any means but his power. He had done as Kambir, who, sitting with his disciple suddenly overturned the water jar. The surprised disciple asked why he spilled the drinking water and Kambir answered that the city of Mathura was burning and he threw the water on the fire to save the city. But the disciple didn't believe, and Kambir, reading his mind, sent him to Mathura. The man founld part of the city in ashes. Inquiry revealed a wild fire had broken out but /Master Kambir arrived in time to save the city. Kambir had gone in his mental body and extinguish-

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